Rough Trade;
2004

Find it at:

Books EP

Rough Trade;
2004

Find it at:

Back in the days when Belle & Sebastian were as synonymous with marathon soundchecks and amateurish
shambolism as they were with cardies, Bowlie, and avoiding the press, you'd have gotten pretty long odds
that they'd become an ambitious, sophisticated, sunny pop band. Yet, six years after they began to embrace
Northern Soul with the same fervor as "Northern Sky", the band that couldn't cut it on Sessions on
West 54th is carrying the flag for multi-layered, nuanced indie pop.

Granted, it's been a sometimes rocky transition from being a loose collective to a tight unit: 2000's odd
grab-bag Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant often sounds labored or cautious, while last
year's Dear Catastrophe Waitress sometimes seems too meticulous, clean and stuffy. But over the
course of Waitress' three counterpart EPs-- Step into My Office, Baby, I'm a Cuckoo
and Books-- the band have grown increasingly playful and are finally fully comfortable working as a
studio outfit.

Oddly, the best material from these EPs (as well as from the post-Fold Your Hands EPs and Dear
Catastrophe Waitress) contradict the old standby critique of Belle & Sebastian Mk. II, that a democratic
approach to the band's music spoiled the beauty of Stuart Murdoch's benevolent dictatorship. Murdoch remains
the band's best lyricist by some distance, but a communal approach to crafting melodies, hooks, and sonic
accents-- which, in some cases, result in heavily layered and multi-part tracks-- is now arguably the band's
primary strength.

When not lapsing into hippy-dippy Polyphonic Spree territory, Belle & Sebastian's increased penchant for
loose grooves, elastic rhythms and playful ideas is a welcome and necessary antidote for a band that
threatened to become nothing but neutered, constipated soul or by-the-numbers pastiche. This more relaxed
approach carries echoes of early Orange Juice and, arguably, may have been coaxed by the freedom of the
single format. Liberated from the pressure of recording and releasing a full album-- and with no need to
make each release a definitive statement-- Belle & Sebastian took some chances and ended up releasing a
handful of great songs, including ones that morph into interesting directions in the hands of others (The
Avalanches' remix of "I'm a Cuckoo") or themselves (the "version" of "Your Cover's Blown").

Step into My Office is the weakest of the three EPs. The title track grates as much as it charms,
and although everything from its "Dope Show"-esque opening to its sexual innuendos can't help but produce
fewer smiles once you know they're coming, it's still a joy to hear Murdoch's winking transformation from
"working for the joy of giving" to the joy of, erm, getting. "Love on the March" is a bit of wintry bossa
nova, the sort of application of Brazilian aesthetics one would except from pasty Scots. "Desperation Made
a Fool of Me", meanwhile, may be the disc's best track. Recorded with longtime Scottish pop engineer Tony
Doogan, it's a daily-grind/killing-me-softly type song about dashed expectations and the harsh yet strangely
rewarding reality of an often difficult life-- one on which Murdoch's weary vocal matches the song's sleepy,
worn tone and content.

I'm a Cuckoo wisely pegs Waitress' most radio-ready track as a single. The jaunty, quotable
"Cuckoo" is all wish fulfillment and dancefloor daydreams, and it's even more engaging on its own than
within the context of an album. The Avalanches remix ignores Murdoch's suggestion that he'd "like to be
in Tokyo", and instead transports him to North Africa via a chorus of Sudanese children and some sort of
hand-played frame and/or wooden percussion (a doumbek? Djembe? Darbukka? Ask Damon Albarn, he'll know).
Besides the vocals, the remix's one consolation to the album version is its re-creation of the main melody
line on a wooden flute.

Sticking with the tourist/traveller's theme, I'm a Cuckoo also rescues Stevie Jackson's "(I Believe
in) Travellin' Light" from the dustbin. Wisely cut from Dear Catastrophe Waitress (it doesn't fit
the record's mood), "Travellin' Light" is another of Jackson's Greenwich Village Salesman folk songs, a
dusty ballad that avoids the pantomime of Belle & Sebastian's career nadir "Beyond the Sunrise", yet isn't
as delightful as "The Wrong Girl". And perhaps oddest of all, "Stop, Look and Listen" shifts from Mike
Nesmith to Dick Dale within its seven minutes.

Another Waitress favorite, "Wrapped Up in Books", leads off the Books EP, but it's merely a
teaser for "Your Cover's Blown". Described by NME as the "indie 'Bohemian Rhapsody'", it's a slinky,
sultry mini-suite-- spy vs. spy in the discotheque. Even the re-emergence of the Arthur Lee impression
Murdoch debuted on "I'm Waking Up to Us" can't detract from its whiplash smiles. The deep bass and hi-hat
of "Cover (Version)" offer an alternate approach to "Your Cover's Blown", serving as a cousin to the
Avalanches' "Cuckoo" remix. The cut-and-paste approach and combinations of seemingly disparate elements
on display here (as well as in the original) echo The Fiery Furnaces and dance culture in equal parts.
And finally, "Your Secrets" takes us back to the start, recalling bits of the stronger melodies from
Fold Your Hands, but retaining the crisp feel of Waitress. Like this EP's literary title
track, it could have slotted into any of Belle & Sebastian's past albums-- a trick that "Your Cover's Blown"
and its companion track will hopefully manage on the band's next full-length.